


raindrop's envy

by littletrenchcoatangel



Series: September Challenge 2017 [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-23 07:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11985081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littletrenchcoatangel/pseuds/littletrenchcoatangel
Summary: Jim is falling. Again.





	raindrop's envy

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be gen and under 1000 words but i can never resist boys making out so HERE YA GO
> 
> god it's been forever since i've written anything
> 
> THIS IS PART OF A NEW CHALLENGE FOR SEPTEMBER THAT IM ALREADY BEHIND ON. hopefully i catch up sooner than i did with 31DoG lol

Jim was falling. Fast.

This was not the first time, nor, in all likelihood, would it be the last.

They're on another planet - Sigma-something, from what he remembers of Uhura's translation - and he was supposed to be monitoring an island city from one of the Enterprise's newest stealth-machines (that he had, accurately, described as a "hot air balloon with reflector panels", much to the annoyance of the science team) when shit, as they say, hit the fan, and he was left plummeting towards water most-likely-not-safe-for-humans at "37.8% slower a rate than you would on Earth, Captain" but "still pretty fucking fast, Spock!"

From what Jim could gather, based on the choppy, wind-blocked sounds coming from his ear piece, Chekov was racing, once again, to the transporter console, as Scotty was still (to his own annoyance) not perfectly capable of capturing moving targets with the beam, just yet.

"Bones," Jim managed, breathless, trying to keep his arms spread wide as he watched the broken reflector panels breech the water a few hundred feet below. He clenched his teeth against the pain of the wind whipping past his injuries. "Am I still falling?"

Bones, who had refused on principal to get into the "basket of death," huffed an aggravated sound from the uninhabited islanded they'd landed on. It was the first sound he'd made since screaming Jim's name at the sight of seeing him shot down by what they thought were a primitive people.

"I'd say so, Jim," he said plainly, his accent thick and obvious with concern.

Jim studied the green-and-grey storm below, trying not to think about the dark shadows surfacing near where the remains of his vehicle were crashing into the water, and managed a few deep breaths of the air rushing around his face. He probably had 15 seconds, give or take, until this mancake became a pancake.

"Mr Scott," Spock's voice was tinged with the barest emotion, a true indication that he was worried as all hell, at least to Jim. The echo of an alarm behind his voice confirmed Jim's theory that he was watching Jim's descent from the bridge. It sent a weird feeling down his arms, one that settled in his fingertips and had nothing to do with the cold air rushing past.

"Aye, sir," came Scotty's voice. His thick brogue a comforting distraction from Jim's impending death.

"Captain," came Chekov's voice an instant later, as a faint whirring noise started in Jim's ears. Out of breath, he said quietly, "We have you."

Jim hadn't much enjoyed the feeling of plummeting towards the earth of a foreign planet, but he would confess to anyone and everyone (so, Bones) that he much preferred it to landing with force on the floor of the transporter room.

He groaned heavily, rolling onto his side to alleviate some of the pain, and barely noticed as Chekov came rushing to his side to ensure he was unharmed.

"Captain," he said quietly. "Are you alright?"

Jim groaned again, rubbing at his skull where it had been hit by debris from the balloon, and moved to stand, carefully shielding his right hand side from view.

"Fine, Chekov," he replied eventually. "Thank you."

Chekov helped him to his feet, slowly, and allowed him space to walk down the stairs himself, towards the console.

With a faint whirring sound and a small flash of light, the silence of the room suddenly disappeared.

"Didn't I tell you?" Bones yelled, appearing at Jim's side and in front of him all at once, tools materialising in his hands to check over Jim's body. "Did I not tell you that - that _thing_  was a basket of death?"

Jim decided not to dignify Bones with a response, instead choosing to lean over the console, and Scotty, to contact the bridge. Bones made a sharp noise, positioning himself at Jim's right hand side, and immediately signaled for Chapel on his pocket communicator.

"Captain retrieved," Jim said into the mic. A brief round of cheers erupted over the speakers and from the hall outside, and Jim smiled.

"A pleasure to have you back on board, sir," Spock returned. "I will return the conn-"

"No," Jim interrupted, overriding the comms briefly, ignoring the shiver that raced up his spine. "You still have the conn, Mr Spock."

Bones made a noise that Jim translated to "damn right 'you still have the conn, Mr Spock'" as he scanned the tattered remnants of the right hand side of Jim's landing suit, careful not to get too close with his device.

"Jim," he said, his voice low. Jim was fully aware of the damage that had been done, but he was not going to acknowledge it in front of his crew.

"I'll be in my quarters if anyone needs me," he said, with a pointed look at Bones.

"Aye, Captain," Scotty answered, a smile lighting up his usually stern features.

Jim left, then, Bones carefully trailing beside him and shielding the worst of the damage from the view of passersby, each of them congratulating Jim on his safe return to the ship.

Nurse Chapel was waiting outside Jim's quarters, a small kit from medical in her hand that she passed to Bones immediately, with a small smile to Jim and a congratulations for his relatively safe return.

Once inside, Jim dropped onto his bunk and lay his head back on the standard issue pillow he hadn't been able to convince Scotty to replace, and let Bones get to work.

* * *

 

"You should be in medical," Bones said afterwards, securing the last of the gauze on Jim's side. "That thing took a chunk out of your side. You're lucky you didn't lose an arm!"

"I hate medical," Jim reminded him, ignoring the rest of what Bones had said. He knew there was something missing from his side. He had felt it separate.

"Surprising, considering how often you're there," Bones chastised.

Jim returned his commentary with the very captainly action of poking his tongue out, and Bones looked ready to retaliate when they were interrupted by the quiet sound of someone requesting entry to Jim's room.

Without bothering to check who it was, Jim used the panel near his bed to allow entry, and was surprised to see Spock standing in the doorway a moment later.

"Forgive the intrusion, Captain, Doctor, but I thought it my duty as First Officer to ensure you were... alright," he said, pausing momentarily as he took in the bandages decorating Jim's flank, his landing suit tattered where it lay folded down to his waist.

"You were injured, Jim?" he asked, stepping forward.

"''Tis but a scratch," Jim said lamely, giving Bones a pointed look, before turning to smirk at his First Officer. He ignored the strange twitch his heart made, hearing Spock use his first name.

"He'll be fine," Bones confirmed begrudgingly, and moved to pack up his tools. "But it's your job," he gestured a wad of blood-soaked tissue at Spock, who did not react, "to make sure he checks in tomorrow to change his bandages."

"As you wish, Doctor," Spock replied, nodding once.

Jim groaned, knowing that there was no way to get out of the visit now, and shooed Bones out of the room with a pointed jab at his slowly-growing crush on Nurse Chapel.

"I have a feeling," Spock began slowly, after the door had slid shut behind Bones. "That you are keeping the severity of your injuries from me."

"And I have a feeling," Jim returned, brazenly, forgetting himself and his stupid crush for a moment as he stared at the man across the room. "That you were concerned for my health, back there."

"Of course," Spock replied, sending strange feelings through Jim's chest. "You are my Captain."

"Of course," Jim echoed. _Duh_ , he told himself. _It's literally in his job description._

Jim wasn't sure why his stupid crush had decided to rear it's ugly head in that moment, but he wished it would go away. Two years, he'd been thinking... _things_ about his colleague, and there were only so many hours a Captain could have to himself to alleviate the associated stresses. High on adrenaline, now was one of the times Jim wished heavily for a moment alone.

But Spock remained, his form steady and his eyes unwavering. His cheeks were tinted a light green, akin to a blush on anyone else, and his chest heaved in short, sharp gasps, as if he'd been running.

"Thank you for your concern, Spock," he muttered, beginning to feel an uncomfortable problem rising between his legs, "but I really am okay. Bones took care of me."

All in a rush, Spock was at his side on the bunk, his long, smooth fingers brushing the edge of the gauze pad covering most of his ribs.

"Perhaps we underestimated this civilisations development," Spock mused, apparently completely unaware of the effect his cool fingers had on Jim's bare skin.

"Yeah," Jim breathed, staring at the curve of Spock's nose. "Perhaps."

"Jim," Spock said quietly, his deep voice catching at the back of his throat. "I am... sorry, to see you harmed."

Swallowing awkwardly, Jim nodded. His skin felt impossibly warm beneath Spock's hand, and he resisted the urge to press his palm against his groin.

"I'm fine," he replied.

"I am..." Spock started slowly, and then quieted. Jim waited, and Spock sighed gently.

"I am glad," he began again, reaching his fingers up to touch at the edge of a small wound on Jim's forehead. "That you are alright."

He met Jim's eyes then, a weight in them that Jim desperately wished he was familiar with.

He blinked once, twice, three times, before Jim leaned in with a muttered "fuck it" and sealed their lips together.

Jim kissed like he fell - fast, and hard, with no intention of stopping by his own means.

Spock, it seemed, was very fond of this method.

The vulcan moaned into the kiss, a low, quiet sound that went straight to Jim's cock, and Jim swallowed it eagerly, the taste of it mixing deliciously ith the adrenaline already pumping through his veins.

"Oh," Spock managed, pulling back slowly for a breath of fresh air. His hand fell from where it had curled into Jim's hair to his side, resting just below the edge of the gauze.

Jim bit back the apology resting on his tongue and smiled.

"Well," he managed, when Spock said nothing further. "If this is what awaits me when I return to the ship, maybe I should fall out of the sky more often."

Spock stared, eyes wide, his lips and cheeks flushed green, and rubbed his thumb against the edge of the gauze on Jim's side.

"Please," he said slowly, the word heavy with things he wouldn't - perhaps _couldn't_ \- say, and turned his gaze to the injury. "Please don't."

Jim stared at his hand for a moment and then tilted his head to meet Spock's eyes.

"Okay," he said at last, giving his most sincere smile. "But not promises."

"That," Spock said slowly, the smallest of smiles turning his lips. "I believe, will suffice."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> any mistakes are my own bc this is unbeta'd pls let me know if you see any
> 
> thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it!


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